13 September

Sometimes to someone lonely there comes something that works as a wondrous balm. It is not a sound, not a splendor, not even a voice. It is the smile of long-lost women--a smile that, like the light of perished stars, is still on its way.

The Bride

7 September 1900

I have felt her in this house,
The blond bride, who long languished here.
All hours sing with her voice
and all sounds move with her gait.

The objects, which had to serve me daily,
grew downcast whenever I approached,
and they yearned for someone more intuitive
with whom their simplicity could commune.

Nothing in the house declared her presence,
yet everything said "it's not for you,"
and when at dusk I wandered through long hallways,
all mirros begged for her soft image.-

(Excerpt from Diaries of a young poet by Rainer Maria Rilke, Translated by Edward Snow & Michael Winkler. Published by W. W. Norton & Company, 1998)